


I'll Have What He's Having

by Ladytalon



Category: Stargate SG-1
Genre: Gen, Humor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-23
Updated: 2015-04-23
Packaged: 2018-03-25 10:08:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,645
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3806470
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ladytalon/pseuds/Ladytalon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam and Vala take Aris to a deli.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I'll Have What He's Having

“This is going to be fantastic,” Vala says enthusiastically. “Girl’s Day Out!”

Sam glances over at her friend, then over at Aris. The bounty hunter looks amused at being named an honorary female. “It’s not actually a full _day_ ,” she explains. “General Landry thought that it might be best to-”

“It’s fine,” Aris reassures her, looking around the parking garage interestedly. “He wants to believe that other Earthlings might find me alarming, so I should expose myself to them in increments.”

Okay, what? Sam blinks and looks over at him, certain he’s teasing her, but Aris is busily inspecting one of the Humvees and making disparaging remarks about its fuel efficiency. “What do you mean, _he_ wants to believe?”

“Major-”

“Colonel.”

“Whatever it is that you are now; I’ve been to more planets than you people ever knew existed, and for longer than you’ve been alive. Keeping me locked underground because you’re afraid I’ll somehow get inspired by backward technology, and I use that term ‘technology’ generously, is nothing less than totally absurd. I’m not going to steal anything…or any _one_ … and I’m certainly not about to decide that I would like to depose your world leaders, because I have better things to do with my time.”

His tone is as sharply sarcastic as ever and despite the fact that Sam knows he isn’t actually trying to start an argument, she can’t help but bridle. Vala tears her attention away from playing Angry Birds and pops her smartphone into her back pocket, hurrying to separate them. “Aris, darling, your mouth is moving again and you _know_ how Auntie Vala feels about that.”

Aris laughs. “I’m older than you, too, child,” he says, making a grab for her. Vala dances back away from him, and he promptly puts the lie to his claim of maturity by giving chase. Sam unlocks her car and rolls all the windows down by the time Aris appears with a giggling Vala slung over one shoulder. He quickly elects to sit in the backseat and stretches his legs out while the two women get in and Sam steers the car towards the exit.

They drive into Colorado Springs and give Aris an abbreviated tour – Vala is as desperate as ever to visit the Money Museum. Sam couldn’t care less about it, but she tags along just in case; her two companions _are_ intergalactic cat burglars, after all. Aris triggers an alarm just to be contrary and she’s rethinking the whole ‘outing’ idea when he asks to visit the Air Force Academy (probably to make up for almost getting her arrested). They walk through the Fine Arts Center and have a pleasant time at Garden of the Gods, after they’ve finished sniggering at the title.

“It’s getting late, but we should have time to stop for lunch before we have to be back,” Sam says after consulting her watch. “Vala, what do you think?”

“No cafeterias,” Aris puts in hastily.

“What’s wrong with the cafeteria?” Vala asks curiously.

“Too much blue Jello.”

“What’s wrong with blue Jello?” it’s Sam’s turn to demand.

“What about the Bearclaw?” Vala intervenes.

“Bearclaw it is,” Sam says.

They drive to the restaurant, which is fairly busy with the post-lunch crowd, and stand in line talking. “So this is a… _deli_ ,” Aris says idly, looking around at the other patrons. “Two nights ago, I watched a film about a woman who wanted everything separated on her plate. It seemed to annoy the male friend she was with.”

Sam smiles, reaching for a takeout menu to slide into her purse; Cam lost hers a month ago so she could use a spare. “I guess there’s not much else for you to do.”

“Television is useful for the popular culture references, even when much of the programming is ridiculous,” Aris comments, gazing up at the blackboards behind the counter. “Why would someone pay money for meat that is sliced so thinly? Seems to me that you could do it yourself. Doesn’t anyone kill their own food on this planet?”

Vala elbows past him to place her order, then turns back. “Why don’t I pick something for you, and then you can tell me if you think it’s worth paying for or not?”

“That’s not an answer,” he argues. “Anyone could kill an animal and make a sandwich from it. Why is pastrami so special?”

They’re attracting some rather odd looks so Sam hustles them to a table before going back to order herself a salad (Aris will get a pastrami sandwich) and pay; she makes a mental note to file the expense as Landry had asked. She picks up bottles of water and brings them over, interrupting the discussion Aris and Vala are having about sliced meats and cheeses. “Here you go – freshly killed plastic,” Sam announces.

“It used to be a park bench,” Vala whispers.

“Overpopulation strikes again,” Sam says, trying not to grin at the look on Aris’ face. “So what movies have you seen lately?”

Aris lists several of the terrible movies that have been on cable lately, and asks if there really is such a thing as a ‘sharktopus’ (Sam assures them that there isn’t) before getting into a discussion with them concerning the Lifetime channel. “It seems like everyone’s getting kidnapped or beaten half to death. Those women should start carrying guns,” Aris advises as their lunch arrives.

“They don’t call it the “Cry and Die” channel for nothing… ooh, I’ve got an extra pickle!” 

Vala brandishes her prize before taking a huge bite of her croissant. Sam notices with amusement that Aris has gotten everything ‘on the side,’ _When Harry Met Sally_ -style; he peers at his meal suspiciously before trying it and she turns her attention to her own sandwich.

Sam’s not really paying attention when he makes the first sound of enjoyment, because she’s hungry and her chicken-salad sandwich is really good, but she lowers it to her plate when he emits another groan. “Is something wrong?”

Aris makes the sound again, louder this time, and Vala grasps the collar of her shirt to pull it up over her mouth. “ _Mmmmm_ ,” he says, closing his eyes. Sam looks across the table at him, mystified, and he moans again. What’s going on? She glances over at Vala, who’s still hiding half of her face inside her shirt and looking absolutely thrilled about something, then back at Aris who lets out a groan so loud that the other customers turn to look.

“Be quiet, everyone’s looking over here,” she hisses. He raises his hands to brush his hair back, and licks his lips with a loud sigh. If Sam didn’t know any better, she’d think that the bounty hunter looks like he’s having…

_Wait a second_.

The comment about the deli, the discussion about movies, how he’d asked for everything on the side. “Oh, no.”

“ _Oooh._ ”

“Aris. Aris, no.”

“Oh, _yesss_ …!”

“Aris, stop it. Stop _right now_ , or I’ll-”

He starts moaning in earnest. Everyone’s looking, and Vala’s laughing so hard that she’s crying as Aris gives the performance of a lifetime. Sam slides down in her seat and wishes she were invisible, or dead, or both – anything to escape from hearing the grunts, moans, and panting. She’s never going anywhere with him again, Sam vows to herself. Aris finishes his routine with an especially loud, strangled grunt before heaving a satisfied-sounding sigh and reaching for his sandwich as if nothing out of the ordinary has happened at all.

Vala leaps up to give him a standing ovation, and the other patrons cheer. Aris glances around, shrugs, and finishes his lunch.

“I’m never taking you anywhere, ever again,” Sam warns. 

He raises his eyebrows in a show of silent surprise as he opens his water bottle, finally grinning when Vala keeps flapping her hands in the air and wheezing. “Maybe the sigh was a little too much.”

“Just the sigh?” Sam buries her face in her hands as the manager approaches their table. “Here we go – banned for life.”

Aris laughs and directs his attention to the man standing in front of him. “How’d I do?”

“We never really thought anyone would actually try it, to be honest.” The manager smiles. “Still, a deal is a deal. What can I get you?”

Sam frowns, perplexed. “What’s going on?”

“The pastrami sandwich was good – can I have another one?” Aris asks.

“Sure thing – would you like it to go?”

Aris nods and the manager leaves their table. “Aris?” Sam asks. “What just happened?”

“There was a sign underneath the menu that said if anyone reenacted the deli scene from _When Harry Met Sally_ , they would get a free sandwich.” Aris shrugs. “I’m hungry.”

Sam rubs her hands across her face. “I can’t believe it. You pulled that stunt, just because you wanted another sandwich? I could’ve just bought you one; Landry said he’d reimburse me.”

“I suppose so, but this one was _free_ ,” Aris points out. “It was a good trade.”

The manager returns with a takeout bag and talks to Aris for a few minutes while Sam takes their tray to the trashcan and gets a cup of coffee for herself and a Danish for Vala. They head for the car, and Vala starts making plans for their next day out. “We should go for manicures.”

“Aren’t those for women?” Aris protests.

“Don’t be sexist. Your nails are _terrible_ ,” Vala says. “I call shotgun.”

Aris looks over at Sam, sly as can be. “I’m driving.”

“ _You’re_ in the backseat, Sally. That’s _my_ car.”

He grins and switches the conversation back to manicures. “There’s nothing wrong with my nails, Vala.”

“Oh, of course not. I’m sure the fungi love it there.”

Sam rolls her eyes as they pile into the car and continue their casual bickering all the way back to Cheyenne Mountain.


End file.
